For Love of Toast
by Rebel Paisley
Summary: Ensemble piece. Hunter goes a little toast crazy. Emphasis on the crazy. The team reacts accordingly, except for Cam. Cam doesn't like Hunter. He's not particularly fond of toast either.
1. For Love of Toast

For Love of Toast

Disclaimer: I don't own Power Rangers, the show and all its characters belong to their respective owners. I am not profiting from this story.

Alternative Summary: Hunter was just doing it to annoy Cam. And then maybe he had a mid-mid-life crisis or something. Honestly, it wasn't that serious. Hunter was more of a waffles guy anyway.

Notes: Established Hunter/Shane, Dustin/Cam, Tori/Blake because _I love happy endings __**so**__ much_. Also, Hunter and Blake live at Ninja Ops. That is all.

This is dedicated to the real vampire, who was also kind enough to beta _and_ inspire this piece.

So…this is all her fault. In case you were wondering.

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So Hunter didn't really believe in the eternally magical, infinite happiness concept of "true love". Okay, scratch that, Hunter _didn't_ believe in the eternally magical, infinite happiness concept of "true love". Not because he was naturally disposed to be grumpy towards all things that resembled a fanciful copout (which he still was, just, not for this) but simply because he did not neglect to use that organ nestled between his ears. The one that told the rest of his body to do things. The one that could reason _and_ tell his heart to keep doing that blood pumping thing. Yeah, that one. He used that.

And using that, combined with his series of unfortunately sad life experiences taught him that infinite, magical, sunshine love did not come into existence naturally. It was not in the realm of human emotions; it was just a happy lie people sold themselves to comfort that forever empty part of their soul that always yearned for more. It was like all of humanity had gathered together and decided _"Hey, I'm unhappy, I have decided that you (insert name here) shall be the solution to making that go away. It doesn't matter if I shall never be truly satisfied, you (insert name here) shall be the desperate, last ditch effort to give my life meaning."_

Except humanity was a bunch of whiny, lying, blood-sucking leeches, so they would probably be a whole lot less honest about it than Hunter was.

Not that he was bitter or anything. But if he was (and he wasn't, but you know, _if_), he was pretty sure the "murdered parents, forever orphan, raising brother" thing allowed him that privilege.

True love was a crock. It wasn't that he thought you couldn't enjoy a person's company, even enough to want to spend the rest of your life with them (because being alone, okay, that sucked), but the whole "You are my light, my soul, my moon, my candle in a paper boat sailing merrily across the effervescent pond of _joy_" thing just…sort of escaped him. And slightly terrified him. And they annoyed him, the few people he knew that actually bought into that kind of thing and threw themselves into the delusion with such mindless enthusiasm that it left Hunter scraping at his eyeballs wondering _why?_

So much wasted energy, and effort, and the cards and flowers and chocolate vendors getting all that money they didn't really deserve-not like that, it just, _boggled _his brain.

And yet…

And yet, Hunter may have finally, _finally_ found a solution that made perfect, undeniable sense.

He was honestly ashamed he hadn't thought of it sooner.

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Hunter had kept his silence for approximately 8.43 minutes.

Under normal circumstances Cam would have never bothered noting it, but since he considered the few moments he shared a room with the crimson ranger alone as distinctly _not_ normal, Cam, to quote his more blunt if less-grammatically gifted boyfriend, "noted away". Abnormal circumstances were not without their own set of guidelines. While they were unique to all other encounters, there were established practices to be followed. Usually this entailed quiet banter that ranged from intended harm to unenthusiastic barbs thrown with barely any notice or meaning for the express purpose of filling those awkward silences. Very rarely did Hunter and Cam resign themselves to these quiet lulls. Unless they were both drained from battle or words could not hope to do proper justice to what they desired to communicate, Cam and Hunter, one-on-one, always spoke. The pace always varied, the responses were not always instantaneous, but words were always had.

Once, when Cam bothered himself with deducing the exact reason as to _why_ they behaved this way, he supposed it was simply their preferred method of keeping tabs on the other ranger. To gauge and judge and know.

To be honest, Cam didn't like thinking about the failure of their relationship terribly much, so he usually didn't, and to this point that was the only explanation he had for their behavior.

Until today, where they had spent a grand total of 8.43 minutes together (now going on 9.12) and Hunter had yet to utter a single word throughout any of them. Kitchen time together was unavoidable; the hazards of living and training together lined up their eating schedules most days of the week. Usually Blake was there to run interference but it seemed he had taken to his bed, clinging stubbornly to sleep as a sort of reward for yesterday's battle. It was a fair enough gift. Cam just didn't…appreciate the company it left him with.

Silent-Hunter was worse company than talking-Hunter because with talking-Hunter Cam always knew where a portion of Hunter's focus was. Cam was always in possession of some; perhaps not a great deal, but _some_. The rest was distributed between Hunter's current task of food preparation, his future tasks, and whatever events that had preceded the food preparation that could require some personal reflection. Or Shane. Cam wouldn't rule it out.

Silent-Hunter, on the other hand…

He put forth the barest of efforts when making his morning breakfast, hands going through the motions while his mind was focused singularly on something. Cam was not comfortable with the amount of focus that was going into this unidentified _something_.

Hunter's eyes were locked on the toaster as his mind puttered about on full speed to mull over this mysterious thing, though Cam doubted that was of any importance. What mattered was what was in the crimson ranger's thoughts, not where he was looking.

_Hmm…_

The tech would have Cyber Cam monitor Hunter, advising extreme diligence. Whatever was going on in Hunter's mind probably wouldn't end well for the rest of them.

This was a theory Cam would hope to disprove.

He had the sinking feeling that he couldn't.

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"I've decided," Hunter declared in an unusually boastful way, a tone that was reserved for extreme sleep deprivation or alien-aerosol intoxications or just- not normal, run-of-the-mill Hunter, as he jabbed his spoon in the direction of the toaster, swallowing the last bits of his cereal before continuing, "We need to name the toaster."

Tori, who hadn't been awake that long, shared a confused look with Dustin, the only other inhabitant of the Ninja Ops kitchen. Seeing that she would get nothing from the brunette she shrugged, deciding the let this one play out on its own. It was hard to get Hunter to come out of his shell for goofy things. This was a pretty big step for him; no need to discourage that.

"Go on," she prompted, taking a bite out of her bagel.

"I'm just saying," Hunter replied, "that we all end up eating breakfast here a lot. The toaster gets used on a daily basis. Why shouldn't we name it?"

Dustin's confused face persisted with due diligence, never one to go part-way. "Dude," he said, cream cheese plastered stubbornly on the corner of his mouth. "We use the fridge and the microwave way more."

Hunter didn't seem too concerned by this (rather valid) point.

"Yeah," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "_Individually_, but we have team breakfast-time more than any other meal time. And since at breakfast we use the toaster most…"

"What about the stove?" Tori interjected; no real argument, just an attempt at being playful.

Hunter spoke over her, paying no attention to her (ridiculously logical) point. "We should name the toaster."

The blond teen stared at them both thoughtfully; awaiting their full support for his obviously genius plan. Tori had to admit, the guy proposed this to the right crowd. Being that she didn't particularly care either way and Dustin…

"What are we going to name it?" the yellow ranger asked, practically vibrating in an attempt to contain his enthusiasm. He had been completely on board the moment Hunter had suggested the mechanic's favorite appliance in the kitchen.

Dustin had helped Cam pick the toaster out himself after a rather unfortunate incident with the preceding one (peanut-butter-honey-_extreme_-toaster sandwiches cooked by amping up the voltage to ensure _extreme_ levels of cookery _*_couph* _Blake_ *cough*). It was a simple model (Cam's insistence if they were going to experiment with his appliances) with four slots and a bright yellow casing, leaving none of them confused on who had the final say in its selection. Dustin loved his toaster and Cam, once realizing this, threatened severe and unpleasant punishments (all of which involved cleaning the zords with a _toothbrush_) should anymore "spontaneous" accidents occur. Suffice it to say the yellow toaster had initiated an era of kitchen peace, all appliances were safe from the whims of Blake and Dustin and the odd-Shane (and Tori knew that Hunter had to be in on a few of those incidents too though only Cyber Cam would really know).

Hunter rubbed his chin, giving the appearance of great consideration for a name Tori was pretty sure he had already come up with.

She waited patiently for the shoe to drop.

"Mr. McKibblesworth," Hunter declared. Dustin clapped, pleased by the formality of it all and Tori raised her eyebrows, incredulous to his choice.

"Mr. McKibblesworth?" she echoed.

That was…well, that was a pretty stupid name.

_No offense Dustin._

"I like it," Dustin chirped. "It's all dignified and hoity-toity and stuff."

Tori wisely refrained from mentioning there was no elegance in a name that included the word _"kibbles."_

That was probably Hunter's point.

The aqua ranger narrowed her eyes and jabbed a finger in Hunter's direction knowingly. "You're just doing this to make Cam mad."

And it would, on two counts. One being that Hunter had named _his_ toaster (or, to add greater insult to it, his and _Dustin's_ toaster) and two being that Hunter had named it something _awful_.

Maybe she should have discouraged this. Except…

Well, Cam and Hunter had to learn to get over their issues at some point. Hunter wasn't hurting anyone, he was as unguarded as she had ever seen him, and it was all in good fun.

Alright, Mr. McKibblesworth could stay.

She couldn't _wait_ to see the look on Cam's face when he discovered this new development.

"I assure you dear maiden," Hunter murmured, patting the toaster in a fond manner, "that my intentions are purely innocent."

Tori gave it a few seconds before shrugging and Dustin immediately smiled, relieved that the five seconds of mini-conflict were over.

"Hey," he said, walking over to the pantry and rustling around in its depths. "Do you think Mr. McKibblesworth likes Poptarts?"

"As long as you put the s'mores kind in first," Hunter decided, mischievous grin in place, "and then the strawberry ones."

Which Hunter always picked over cherry, much to the amusement of everyone who wasn't him or Shane.

They split their "dessert" of Poptarts evenly, sharing the spoils of a morning done right. Tori liked where this was going.

Only good things could come from here.

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Blake sort of didn't want to talk to Cam, but he knew he had too.

Alright, he couldn't honestly say he was completely a hundred percent _against_ talking to the tech because the look on his face would be amazingly brilliant, but then Blake would have to deal with the after-effects of grumbling/ranty/displeased Cam. Blake did not like dealing with unhappy Cam. Unhappy Cam did things like fix the shower temperature in the Bradley room to either freezing cold or blazingly hot and he would "misplace" all of the junk food or try to bake them to death by cranking on the heater and spontaneously throw on the sprinkler systems and…

Most of this, Blake would like to clarify, was in retaliation to whatever prank Hunter had pulled during the week and Blake (who was _completely_ innocent _always_) was unsympathetically caught in the crossfire.

From both sides, mind you. Hunter didn't always give Blake a heads up whenever he felt like antagonizing Cam, which sometimes led to a couple of unamusing hours with a chair super glued to the seat of his pants and _no help whatsoever_ from a laughing brother and mocking super-computer program that refused to do anything until they had an appropriate amount of pictures.

If ever you wondered what the "appropriate" amount included, it was somewhere along the lines of sixty five.

Some of them with funny hats.

But back to the important stuff; talking to Cam. The green ranger was…temperamental when it came to these things. He didn't _always_ shoot the messenger, but Blake didn't want to be a casualty of the one time he did, but he also knew that it would be far worse to put this off and allow the tech to learn about the toaster thing through, well…_Hunter_ would be the worst option.

"So…" Blake began once he made his way to the Ops' main room; Cam busy at work by the main console. "Did you hear about…"

"I know about the toaster," Cam replied, never taking his eyes off of his work and _not_-making Blake jump at his suddenness.

"Oh," Blake mumbled. Well, that saved him from a lot of trouble. Best to make a safe retreat now before Cam decided to blow a fuse or something.

He made it within two feet of the door before Cam spoke again, tone stubborn with just the barest hints of agitation, because he never wanted to give Hunter an inch, not even to Blake, who was basically their intermediary.

"We're not dogs," he muttered darkly, referring to the 'Kibbles' thing and Blake shrugged.

He didn't really get it either.

"No," he agreed before moving to step out of the room, "but that might've been the point."

The grunt that followed was Cam's ambiguous way of agreeing with Blake's logic without actually agreeing to it.

Which, as sad as it may sound, was actually one of their _better_ exchanges.

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Breakfast time had been…well, shaky since the christening of one Mr. McKibblesworth. Like, Dustin thought it was all well and good (he _loved_ Mr. McKibblesworth; that name, pure _awesome_) but he felt required to say things were shaky for Cam's sake, because Cam was in major disapproval of the new toaster name. He was pouting…Well, not exactly; Cam didn't pout, and he _especially_ didn't pout if whatever had semi-inspired perhaps-pouting was Hunter, but he _was_ rocking a major no-no face that refused to go away whenever someone mentioned the toaster's new name.

Dustin felt bad about this for all of ten seconds into their first private breakfast time, just the two of them, until Cam asked if Dustin wanted some toast from Mr. McKibblesworth (and yes, he _had_ used the name, just for Dustin) and the yellow ranger felt that overwhelming wave of marshmellowy goodness in his stomach that were his butterflies to Cam's amazingness.

Cam didn't like the name, he didn't like the fact that it was _Hunter's_ name, but he loved Dustin so he'd respect the name in private, but with Hunter around…

Well, it wasn't like they should be asking for miracles anyway. They needed to save those for the battlefield.

When Cam _wasn't_ there for breakfast (which was happening more often and Dustin hated it, but he understood, they all did, they just made it work) everything was pretty darn groovy. It's like they all clicked around this toaster-thing, and Hunter smiled in a non-sarcastic way and Shane laughed and Tori rolled her eyes and Blake would smirk and they would all be one big happy family over something that was stupidly unimportant.

Which, for some odd reason, made it all the more important.

"So what's his first name?"

Dustin had been pondering this since the beginning of Mr. McKibblesworth. He had a last name, and it _was_ a slamming last name, but Dustin didn't know what came after the _"Mr." _

Mr. McKibblesworth deserved more than that.

Hunter looked up from the doodles he was making in the margin of his spiral notebook, pictures of warrior toasters battling all the evil pastries that dared oppose it.

He shook his head, processing Dustin's question. "What?"

Dustin pressed his elbows against the counter, leaning over his empty cereal bowl. "His last name's McKibblesworth. What's his first name?"

Hunter nodded, thought about it, then shrugged. "Mr."

...oh wait, he didn't get the question. Or, he did, but that meant-

Dustin's eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to make sense of it. "So technically he's _Mr._ Mr. McKibblesworth."

That just added to the silliness. Cam probably wouldn't concede to that.

Mr. McKibblesworth he would stay.

The crimson ranger shook his head dismissively, then went back to his drawings. Shane had begun doodling an opposing waffle force in the bottom corner.

"Nope," he replied, starting the outline of a toast cannon. "Just Mr. McKibblesworth."

Blake stepped in to clarify when Dustin opened his mouth to ask what Hunter meant. "It's like Cher. You don't call her Miss Cher, it's just-"

The yellow ranger brightened up, finally getting the connection. "Like Madonna!"

Blake nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

Tori leaned against her boyfriend playfully, throwing a wry smile Dustin's direction as she got in on the fun. "He could also be 'The Toaster formerly known as Toaster'."

"Aka, Mr. McKibblesworth," Blake finished, and then they did that gooey Eskimo kiss thing they were so fond of while Hunter made gagging noises. Tori reached around Blake and swatted him.

As though sensing something was amiss, Cam poked his head into the kitchen, giving all of them a look of disapproval. "Stop encouraging him."

It was a token protest by this point, they all knew it, but Dustin felt inclined to reply anyway, just to give it some weight.

"But Cam," Dustin chirped, smiling happily. "This is important."

It wasn't, but Dustin didn't get a lot of opportunities to bond with silly-Hunter, so he had to take what he could get, even if Cam wasn't keen on it. He would make it up to his boyfriend later.

Cam, who totally got it but had to put up a front that said otherwise, because it was Hunter, rolled his eyes and began to walk away.

"Whatever."

Which was as close to victory as they ever got, so Dustin took it as a win. He and Hunter did matching toast high fives (they were high fives, but with toast).

It was all very magical.

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The first sign that things were going to escalate beyond the initial naming and occasional acknowledgement of Mr. McKibblesworth came to Shane a few days after "his" initiation into the world. Shane and Cam had been talking quietly one Saturday morning, making their way towards the kitchen when they heard the faint sounds of a cd player echoing the tunes of, what Shane had the sinking feeling was, that new British boy band.

"_Baby you light up my world like nobody else…"_

Hunter's voice was unmistakably mixed with the blasting music, no real finesse or seriousness to it, just celebrating in the rhythm. One peak around the doorframe confirmed that yes, he _was_ serenading the toaster, and Shane attempted to share an amused look with Cam. He probably would have succeeded if Cam hadn't been giving his very best _please-deal-with-this-nuisance-you're-so-fond-of-so-I-don't-have-to-because-__**I-will-be-mean-about-it**__…_look.

Shane shrugged but assented to Cam's plea, because Cam was his friend and Hunter…well, he could be a little much sometimes.

Which was one of the reasons Shane was so particularly fond of him.

"No repeat incidents," Cam warned, deciding to skip out on meal time.

He paused mid-retreat down the hallway and looked back at Shane, mild concern written across his face.

"I don't think," he started then looked like he was thinking of a new way to rephrase this. "Hunter's recent behavior…" he decided to go with. "I think it's too out of character for him-"

"Don't worry about it Cam," Shane replied, an easy smile on his face. "Hunter's just cutting loose a little. It's only an added bonus it makes you mad." He paused before adding, "In his opinion, of course."

Cam didn't look at all assured but begrudgingly accepted the red ranger's argument, slowly nodding before turning and walking down the hallway. Shane waited for the tech to completely disappear from sight before he let out a laugh, shaking his head at the antics of the overly-paranoid green ranger.

_It's okay for Hunter to be goofy Cam; it's not the end of the world._

And that other thing? The "no repeat incidents" –thing?

Right.

Shane would just try to make sure Cam wasn't around when it inevitably happened.

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There may have been some repeat toaster-singing incidents.

The dance routine may have been amped up a notch.

Dustin may have been involved.

Tori may have captured it all on her cell phone. And then shared it with Cyber Cam while making sarcastic quips about the two's star potential. And then maybe Shane had laughed from over their shoulder, insisting a copy of the file be sent to his computer.

And then there might have been the slightest chance that Cam had somehow gotten a hold of the video and had placed it in one of his secure files so he could re-watch whenever he wanted, a look of affection gracing his face. And if this _did_ happen, no one commented on it. They knew he wasn't looking at Hunter.

(Dustin may have given the tech a private performance, but that really _was_ a maybe, as neither one of them would ever talk about it.)

Not even Cyber Cam, who had access to all the cameras, which just went to show he actually _did_ have some sense of loyalty.

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The _second_ sign that things were going to evolve beyond the normal _abnormal_ Shane had become accustomed to occurred upon a not-so-special morning several days after the dance-a-thon. The skater was once more on the way to the kitchen, in search for, as luck would have it, some toasted Poptart goodness. He paused outside the kitchen's threshold, the familiar voice of his boyfriend interacting with the not-so-familiar and even less interactive sounds of nothing.

Talking to himself. Cute (and yes, Shane could think that, and shove it to anyone who though differently). Hunter usually only started muttering to himself when he was upset or if Blake or (even more likely) Shane had pulled a stupid stunt.

This, this was not one of those times.

A sly smile spread across Shane's face.

_Ah,_ so it was the elusive, goofy, outward-inner monologue. When the biting sarcasm that constantly surged through Hunter had to discover some kind of release before there was a sarcasmic overload, resulting in many long, drawn-out, _never-ending-well_ arguments with Cam. Sometimes Tori.

Not wanting to spoil Hunter's fun (or worse, make him feel self conscious), Shane settled back against the wall, dropping some serious eaves as his boyfriend carried on his one-sided conversation.

"There's standardization," Hunter was saying, "and then there's specialization and sure, it could be argued that all kitchen appliances are in some ways, specialized. Okay, clearly they're specialized; they all have a specific function. But look at an oven. Oven's basic goal is to make things hot. Pretty simple. But within that making-hot thing there's those sub-categories like 'baking' and 'broiling' and…huh, that might just be it, but whatever, you can put all kinds of things in ovens right? That's not a question, we all know this."

Hunter paused and there were some quiet thumping sounds, like he was patting something without much force.

"But you," he continued. "_You've_ got specific boundaries, certain protocols that must be upheld. Only certain-sized bread products can grace your fine toasting slots."

He paused, and this was where that sinking feeling began to develop because Shane realized he was allowing time for an answer that wasn't coming.

Hunter didn't seem too disturbed by this fact, just picked up the silent conversation easily. "No, no I mean it, you look great. I have nothing but respect and the utmost sincerity for you."

He paused again, and Shane knew he was doomed.

Or, you know, Cam was doomed.

"So here's the thing," Hunter said, sounding pleased with himself. "I'm awesome. I'm also awesomely honest. And yeah, the oven thing, that's cool, but you, you've got standards; I value that _way_ more than any other appliances in here."

Enter whatever Mr. McKibblesworth's side of the conversation was. Shane supposed, based on how the conversation was going it would be something like, _"I bet you're just saying that_," because Hunter thought clichés were hilarious.

And then _Hunter_ would say-

"No really, I mean it."

Shane was beset with conflicting emotions of smugness and minor strikes of terror.

Yay, he knew his boyfriend!

Boo, his boyfriend was starting up another round of "_Let's-Annoy-Cam_".

Which yes, _was_ an official sport at Ninja Ops and yes, it was still titled this when Cam inevitably scrounged up a counterstrike and _yes_ (and Shane hated this part the most) there _was_ a running commentary from the peanut gallery (Cyber Cam) that liked to cut together instant replays and recap the movements of both "teams".

Shane was aware this was not good-teammateship. He was aware this was bad.

He was also aware that it made Cam and Hunter one of the team's most effective duos in combat _for reasons he could not comprehend_, so Shane, like everyone who wasn't Cyber Cam, looked the other way. No encouraging, no taking sides, just-

You know, existing in the madness. Minimize the chaos, if possible.

Before Hunter could continue the toaster sweet-talking (the crimson ranger probably thought Shane was Cam, hence the show), the red ranger entered the room, making a point of ignoring the way his boyfriend was affectionately cuddling the toaster, polishing it's sides thoughtfully as he continued his inane chatter. He was probably practicing for Cam or something.

Which was fine. Shane was fine with this. Look at Shane be fine with the crazy-person he was dating. Look at him being all unaffected by the dude he liked making kissy faces at the communal toaster. There was no show there; he was not startled so easily. He was Shane Clarke and all he wanted to do was toast some Poptarts and watch some bad reality television with Dustin in the rec room (which existed; even ninja's liked tv you know) and wait patiently for his boyfriend to get bored with poking Cam with a figurative stick.

He was successful in this very modest endeavor up to the point he needed to use the toaster. A toaster, it would seem, that Hunter had no intention of relinquishing.

Shane sighed, rubbing the side of his head while eyeing his foil-wrapped prizes hungrily. They were frosted.

"Hunter, just…save the act for Cam or something. I need to use the toaster."

"Mr. McKibblesworth," Hunter corrected without looking up, because _that_ was the important part, and Shane rolled his eyes.

"Right, him. I need to toast-"

"Mr. McKibblesworth isn't for toasting," Hunter interrupted, still not looking up because he was in-character or maybe doing that thing where he pushed at Shane's boundaries to see if the red ranger would dump him or something. _Over a toaster_.

Yeah, not happening.

So Shane went ahead and played along with Hunter, because sometimes it was just that simple and other times he just needed reassurance, both of which could be achieved by Shane focusing on the reply Hunter had given him.

"The toaster's-"

"Mr. McKibblesworth," Hunter corrected patiently.

Shane sighed again, quietly finding his center.

"Right…So Mr. McKibblesworth, who is a toaster, to clarify, is _not_ for toasting?"

Cam's status had just been upgraded to "super doomed".

"Yep," Hunter replied, not pressured to elaborate any further, which might have been the point, or he was saving it for Cam, but Shane just wanted his Poptart-y goodness and he wasn't going to let a stupid prank get in the way of that.

"So," Shane began, epitome of patience. "What _is_ Mr. McKibblesworth for?"

It was the first time Hunter had looked up at him, but when he did all of Shane's annoyance melted away, no match for the sheer exuberance and playfulness on Hunter's face. It was like he had won the lottery and his only want was to share it with Shane, just Shane, and while the red ranger couldn't exactly choose sides…

Yeah, okay. He could stand not-toasting things for a while.

Hunter smirked at him. "Based on his charisma? I would say…keeping people company."

And then he smiled back down at his toaster (yes, it was becoming his) and patted its top.

"Nope, still mean it. You are the bomb diggidy Mr. McKibblesworth, so much more than the average toaster."

Shane didn't call him out for the 'bomb diggedy' thing; he just smiled, took his exit, and went back to Dustin with room-temperature Poptarts.

Not quite as good as the gooey-toasty kind, but, he figured it was totally worth it.

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Kanoi knew his son well enough to tell by his posture and the way he fiercely attacked the keyboard that he had to be agitated by something or other. And with Cam's rapid movements sporadically interrupted by the odd sigh, Kanoi knew that this agitation's origin was mostly likely the team's crimson ranger.

Cam and Hunter…Kanoi was aware that not all teams were perfect, that there must be balance in order to maximize their potential, but sometimes his son and the blond ranger worried Kanoi. They did not mesh well, like fire and water, though as opposed to avoiding interactions to minimize their friction they always sought out more; more conflict, more opposition. Kanoi accepted that it was simply their way of communicating; it was how their relationship worked, and so long as no one got hurt…

When the time was right, when they realized how frivolous and unimportant their battles were Cam and Hunter would manage to come to their senses and accept one another, but until then, Kanoi had learned to deal with the two teens' almost constant strife.

While he was the Sensei, he was still Cam's father, and, although he tried to keep an open mind and treat both parties with equal judgment, Kanoi leaned towards helping Cam _just_ a little more. He did not think he would be judged too harshly for this though. He was still a father, after all.

"Something is bothering you Cam."

"Hunter, he is…" His son breathed deep, centering himself, and shook his head. "It's nothing. It's pointless. I can circumnavigate the entire problem by simply avoiding toast. I don't _need_ to toast things; I don't even need to be in the kitchen at the same time, but the principal-"

"Cam," Kanoi interrupted, because Cameron could go on for quite awhile if no one contained him. "If it is as pointless as you say then Hunter can only gain your anger if you allow him to."

"I know that dad; it's just-" Cam sighed and attempted to shake the tension out of his shoulders. "It's just…he named our toaster."

Kanoi wasn't sure how that mattered. It didn't, he was sure. He was also sure Cameron was aware of this fact too.

Ignoring these things, Kanoi stuck to the heart of the issue. "You are allowing him to goad you."

His observation was not well received.

"So it's my fault then," Cam murmured, hands tensing up on the keyboard, poised to resume attack. "So he can't lose, because it's _my_ fault if I get mad-"

"I don't think you are seeing this the right way," Kanoi replied, feeling like the battle was lost.

"No," Cam sighed, his fingers unfurling slowly. "You're right. He just-"

He shook his head and resumed typing, keeping his eyes straight forward as he worked.

"He's just really committed to this one dad." He paused, then added, "It doesn't feel right."

This made Kanoi pause as well. Cameron was a smart boy (so very smart, Kanoi could never properly express it); he wouldn't waste time worrying about things for no purpose. Not to this extent.

There was meaning.

"I will keep my eyes on him," Kanoi promised, receiving a curt nod from his son. It was a small thing, but entirely committed, supportive and needing.

Cam was a curious person, clever and yearning for knowledge. If this one thing was off in his world…

Well, Kanoi would just have to look into it. Help find the missing piece to the puzzle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

Kelly didn't pretend to understand the fads of teenagers; she just took comfort in the fact that bike gear was easy to order and always in demand and never let it get more complicated than that. Just make sure to stock an assortment of colors and sizes and all would be well. It helped to find replicas of whatever the pros were using. All she had to do was make sure those things were available and the kids would sort it out for themselves. There was no need to complicate things.

But even with that firmly planted in her mind she _also_ didn't pretend that Hunter lugging around a toaster didn't seem just a bit…well, odd. Out of all the teenagers in her employment Hunter had always been one of Kelly's more reliable ones. Except for the occasional tardiness or early take-off, Hunter had always been grounded. He always worked hard, no matter what he was doing, and he never complained. Sometimes Kelly forgot he was a teenager at all since he so rarely acted like one (unless Shane or that Cam kid happened to be around, but other than that Hunter was as straight laced as they came).

As though he expected her to ask (because she _was_ going to ask about this one; it couldn't be normal), Hunter halted his walk to the backroom and pointed to the yellow toaster tucked carefully beneath his arm.

"This is Mr. McKibblesworth," he explained, in that, he didn't really explain anything.

He continued, face deadpan, "He wants to see the world."

Hunter didn't give Kelly the time to process the information newly bestowed upon her poor adult brain before deciding the conversation was over and leaving, which was good, because Kelly had no way to respond to that.

_Teenagers_.

…it was probably just stress. He was having a hard time at school, or something, or maybe this was how he dealt with things not going so well on the track.

Yeah, it was stress. No need to look into it any further.

An hour later she would catch the tail end of an argument between Hunter and Cam, who must've snuck past her, over the merits of having a toaster in a kitchen fulfilling it's toaster obligations to say, being in a storage room doing nothing. As strange as it was, Kelly couldn't help but think Cam was losing this argument.

Dustin didn't spare her two seconds when he walked past to intervene and end the argument, begrudgingly getting Hunter to hand over the toaster- sorry, to hand over Mr. McKibblesworth. Kelly tried not to think too hard about the pathetically sad look Hunter had on his face as he did so, or the half-hearted effort he put into stocking the shelves as he moped around for the rest of the day, much to the annoyance of his brother and Shane, who was doing homework in the front of the store with Tori.

It was stress. It had to be stress. Kelly wasn't going to worry about it, no sir, she would not. He would rebound in no time, and eventually they would all have a good laugh over the confusedly-named toaster.

Everything was fine.

Except for the sour feeling in the bottom of her stomach that said everything wasn't.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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-:-:-:-:-:-

Blake stopped, then stared, then closed his eyes and said a quick prayer _hoping_ that the image he had seen before him was just a wild hallucination, the result of one too many late-night Oreo snack-a-thons, then reopened his eyes and saw, just like every other time he had tried it, his prayers had not been answered.

The toaster was on Hunter's bed.

Blake didn't want to know _why_ the toaster was on Hunter's bed. Okay, he sort of did, but he was really hoping the reason was somewhere along the lines of alien-sickness and spontaneous, fatal-if-missed-toast-cravings or something.

He had just wanted to borrow a calculator. Or a pencil. Blake honestly didn't remember anymore. He also sort of didn't care.

"Hunter," he began, as unassuming and nonjudgmental as possible, as though he was approaching a wounded animal. "Why exactly is the toaster-"

"Mr. McKibblesworth," Hunter interrupted, and thankfully he didn't sound angry, just like he needed to correct one more wrong in the world because he didn't like Blake being wrong. Blake should be enlightened. Blake was his brother; Blake should be correct like Hunter was correct and-

Blake shook his head, trying to get back on track.

"Right," Blake replied. "Why is _Mr. McKibblesworth_ in your bed?"

And it was _in_ the bed, tucked in between the sheet and the pillow as though it belonged there like any stuffed animal or bed-furnishing or whatever. It stared at Blake with its unforgiving yellow shine, taunting him, scarring him.

Hunter came in from their shared sitting room space and looked at his toaster companion with a very different, _extremely_ unsettling expression that bordered on extreme fondness, and Blake sort of wanted to punch himself in the face really hard, anything to get rid of that image. If he could un-see that image he would be indescribably grateful.

The blond's face hardened in an instant though, eyes turning to accuse Blake of horrible evils and the shorter brother made a hasty retreat, deciding to do his homework in the main room of the Ops. Or the kitchen. Or Cam's lab. Anywhere that wasn't here.

"What I do in my spare time is none of your business!" Hunter shouted at his retreating back, and Blake urged his feet to move faster in the pitiful hope it would keep his brain from thinking what the hell _that_ could mean.

It wasn't working. Dear God it wasn't working.

Someone, anyone, punch him really hard please. Give him some amnesia. And figure out what the hell was wrong with his brother. It wasn't funny anymore. It _might_ have had the chance of being funny before, but now, the merriment had ceased.

Blake just really wanted his brother back.

Pretty please, whoever was listening.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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Out of what could only be described as a gluttonous urge for more punishment; Blake snuck into Hunter's room to get the skinny on the Hunter/Mr. McKibblesworth situation. Thankfully for him they both kept it PG, with Hunter the picture of utter contentment as he snuggled up next to the toaster.

On second thought, that was actually sort of worse than Blake had feared.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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Tori watched Shane sulk as they spied on Hunter through the doorway to the Ops living room. Hunter had refused to let Shane enter, insisting he needed some alone time with Mr. McKibblesworth. Were Tori to accept absurdities as realities easily, she would have said it felt like a date night, which wasn't what Shane needed to hear right now _at all_.

"Can we replace him?" Cam asked, Dustin at his side, as the rest of the team continued to watch the spectacle with growing unease. Either Hunter hadn't noticed them, or he didn't care.

Tori _really_ didn't like the idea of him not caring.

"_Dude_," Dustin said, tone offended for the sake of Hunter, and the tech just shrugged.

Shane put forth his say in the argument-that-was-not-quite-an-argument but well on the way to getting there, "We're not replacing him."

He frowned then turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the hall.

Okay, that was not good. Shane surrendering and letting Hunter get away with this…

Well, maybe it would work. It was worth a shot, since nothing else had.

Tori waited until Blake decided to follow him, then leaned over towards Cam and Dustin. "_Can_ we replace him?"

It was Dustin's turn to shrug. "Do you know any other Thunder ninjas?"

"There's always Leanne," Cam offered, and all of them _may_ have spent one horrible moment contemplating the effects of trading in Hunter for someone slightly less psychotic.

As if on cue Blake poked his head from around the corner and glared at them. "We are _not_ replacing my brother."

He disappeared just as quickly as he came and Tori sighed, making to follow him. Their intentions _had_ been good, and they had an important job; they had every right to ensure that it would be carried out properly. As she began her retreat she heard Dustin restart their quiet strategy meeting.

"But we _can_ replace him right? If things get worse."

She wasn't surprised when she heard Cam answer, "If things get worse I'm sure Shane will be the first to bench him."

It wasn't all that comforting, but at least Tori knew that was true.

Right?

…right?

-:-:-:-:-:-

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Well, it had finally happened, not that Cyber Cam had foreseen this as an inevitability; his database just had an overextended list of very detailed scenarios that could play out based on the rangers past, and possible future, interactions. So this "it", while arguably final, was in no way desired and honestly, only anticipated by the most obscure and inconceivable factors.

Cyber Cam loathed to think it, but Hunter had finally gone crazy-banana-pants. His awesome hang-out buddy/prankster had been replaced with some dude fixated on toasters. Or toaster. Singular. And Cyber Cam hated it.

He had run every scan possible; he had inspected the toaster himself, taken it apart and reassembled it late at night, when everyone else was asleep. When that little adventure led to, like, the epitome of nothingness, Cyber Cam ran every scan possible on _Hunter_, and then some, and then made up some when the every-possible _plus_ the then-some came up with a big fat angry ZERO_. _

Hunter dude had to be having some kind of weird, half-year crises or something. Like, the stress of rangering had to be getting to him, because this was nuts. He was _feeding_ popcorn into a toaster. Popcorn that he would then later, in complete control of his facilities and totally aware of what was going on, remove very carefully from the exact same toaster. As he had done two times before. And _then_ he would talk to it. Had _been_ talking to it. Just maintained these one-sided conversations that were a little _too_ loving for Cyber Cam's tastes.

Man, he didn't get it. At least _he_ had a personality, and stunning good looks, and he could provide helpful if slightly distracting commentaries during movies that _totally_ made them better, thank you very much. _And_ he could control like, everything in Ninja Ops (and a few things outside, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that, nope, that was his ace in the hole thanks), so why did Hunter pick that stupid, cheap, assembly-line, _bright yellow_, non-aware, one of a ba-jillion _toaster_ over a super studly, smart, funny, totally helpful and loveable and all around superior robot superman? Huh? What did the toaster have that Cyber Cam didn't?

This wasn't cool. Scenario Hunter-falls-über-in-love-with-double-C had been _way_ higher on the list of probable outcomes than scenario Hunter-falls-in-love-with-stupid-bucket-of-garbage-that-in-no-way-compares-to-the-awesomely-awesome-might-of-the-token-artificial-intellegence-next-door.

It wasn't that he was jealous or anything; just comparatively speaking he was far superior.

Far.

_Superior_.

Cyber Cam had been okay with the whole dating-Shane thing because, let's face it, the guy has arms. Like, _major_ biceps. And he wasn't all that awful, as far as people went. There could certainly be worse. Sure he couldn't run multiple calculations within the span of a few nanoseconds or hack into any databases or even operate _all_ of the zords simultaneously, but he laughed at Cyber Cam's knock-knock jokes (and Cyber Cam had the _best_ knock-knock jokes) so Hunter could do a lot worse.

But losing to a toaster?

Screw it, if Hunter wanted to run around being a crazy person that was just _fine_, Cyber Cam totally didn't care.

He totally didn't.

…just, don't expect him to make anymore popcorn.

Because he _wasn't_.

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

They all knew (and Tori knew especially, because feminine intuition was practically clairvoyance with these guys) that the fun was over the moment Shane burst into the kitchen, sans Hunter, declaring:

"The toaster goes."

There was no argument; Cam had been on team destroy-the-toaster since this whole mess had begun and the only one even slightly borderline was Dustin and even _he_ was considering doing away with Mr. McKibblesworth.

As she expected, the mechanic did put up a bit of an argument.

"Can't we just talk to Hunter? Make him…I dunno, stop being so spazzy?"

Dustin didn't fidget under their worn-down stares, tired with the joke Hunter was playing, and Tori tried to be a sympathetic voice of reason. She knew Dustin cared about the toaster, she knew it had sentimental value because he and Cam had picked it out together, but she also knew –

"Look Dustin, I know what…I know _how_ important that toaster is to you, but if Hunter is this dedicated to being –"

"A complete psychopath," Cam murmured, Shane shooting him an annoyed look but obviously not arguing with the tech because…well, Hunter was being a complete psychopath.

Tori allowed Cam his small quip before continuing, "Hunter obviously doesn't get that the joke is done, whatever it was, so we're just…we're just going to have to go to extreme measures to counteract his extreme behavior."

Dustin looked like he was about to object, it _was_ extreme, they all knew that, but Cam just placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, leaned over and whispered quietly, "We can pick out a new one. A toaster-oven, even."

Which Cam had been vehemently against, saying that the functionality of a toaster-oven was moot if said oven couldn't _toast_ things properly, something he claimed they never did.

Dustin's eyes went wide, knowing what a concession it was for the tech, and smiled dreamily, leaning against his boyfriend with a contented look on his face.

"Can we get a yellow one?"

The majority of Cam's smile was hidden behind Dustin's hair when he wrapped an arm around him, tuning out the rest of the team as they entered their own private world.

"Of course we can."

Shane nodded, glad that all they were all agreed and averted his eyes from the pair, hurting because of his lack of similar interactions with Hunter.

That was how Tori knew it would be okay to kill the toaster. Why Hunter was doing with this, whatever stunt he was trying to pull, it was hurting Shane.

They got down to business.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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-:-:-:-:-:-

Blake was ultimately nominated for assassination duty, seeing as the only two people Hunter would allow to get away with it were Shane and Blake and Blake had a higher kill-count when it came to toasters.

The chain of events went a little something like this:

Dustin, Cam, and Tori had vacated the kitchen (leaving only Shane and Blake in the blast zone; they wanted to be sure the rest of the team were wrath-free. The act of not-discouraging it could be seen as heinous) and Hunter's two favorites got to work, creating a culinary mess as evidence of their fake intentions. They then ducked behind the counter, Blake super-charged it (super beyond the _extreme_ charge he had given the previous toaster), and in about five seconds there were pieces of Mr. McKibblesworth shrapnel embedded in the upper kitchen cabinetry.

Cue Hunter's entrance, concerned with the noise, whose face didn't immediately change upon entering the room. He took in the damaged cabinets, the burnt smell, and the smoldering pile of black rubbish in the spot where Mr. McKibblesworth used to be, along with his other pieces that were scattered across the counters.

He didn't say anything. He didn't even look at Shane or Blake. He just snatched up all of Mr. McKibblesworth's parts and bolted out of the room, jaw clenched and eyes determined.

This did not bode well for Shane or Blake.

This did not bode well for any of them.

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Fix him."

Cam hadn't even heard Hunter's entrance; he certainly hadn't been expecting it. One second he was working, relieved the McKibbles business would finally be done with and the next second his lab smelled of charred metal and smoke, of burning, and Hunter shoved the surviving parts of the old toaster at Cam, arms taunt and back strait and barely containing his displeasure and…

Forget it.

Cam took a slow breath and focused, giving the appearance of inspecting each piece carefully.

"I can't," he finally replied, shaking his head in an apologetic manner. "He's beyond repair."

Cam did not expect much from his declaration. Maybe some sarcastic barbs on his inadequacy, maybe some accusations on it being his doing, but what he did not expect, and what actually happened was to immediately have a face full of very enraged, visibly restrained Hunter.

"Don't you say that," he muttered, slow and tone laced with venom. It was overprotective, that's what it was. It was similar to the times he stood guard over an injured Shane.

Cam was not pleased by that parallel.

Cam stood up, dumping the toaster scraps onto the floor as he stared down Hunter. "I. _Can't_. Fix. Him."

There was silence. Tense, unbreakable silence and Hunter just stared at the broken remains of the old toaster, small quakes in his shoulders, and then exited the room, as quickly and silently as he had come.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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Blake didn't expect a lot when he came home, based on Hunter's week of silence. It hadn't been cruel, he thought; it was more like Hunter was in a state of shock. He couldn't help ignoring all of them; he could barely pay attention to himself. His head was firmly planted in the clouds and Blake didn't know what to do. _None_ of them knew what to do. Hunter showed up to training, he showed up for work, he went to school, he fought monsters, and then he immediately banished himself to his room, going so far as too lock the door.

Seeing as they were all ninjas this was more of a symbolic measure than a preventative one, but they all got the hint. Company was not wanted there.

The way Blake saw it eventually Hunter would snap out of it and stop sulking over his fun being cut short. That, or Hunter would move onto the next prank, start another fight with Cam or something and then things could get back to normal. And then _Shane_ would stop moping around, camping outside his boyfriend's door on the off-chance said boyfriend would stop being a jerk and all would be well with the world. Blake wasn't sure why he hadn't just busted down the door by now. Shane was the leader; he took charge as easily as he breathed.

But he and Hunter had this weird respect for boundaries (as in they respected them at the _least_ convenient times and said to hell with them when it couldn't have mattered less), so the sulking and moping would continue.

At least, until today.

The sight Blake was greeted with…it wasn't pretty. It wasn't logical. It wasn't in any form comprehensible.

It was just Hunter, in their living room, transforming what would have been another ordinary corner by decking it out in enough candles that it must have been a fire hazard, wearing all black and crying (_yes_, crying, that was the scary part, and the candles, _the candles-_) all in front of what looked like…

No.

_No_.

This was…Dammit this was stupid!

Hunter was pledging his life to this stupid joke, so committed was he, crumpled down in front of an enlarged picture of Mr. McKibblesworth in prime condition. There were a sea of tissues littered around him (which Blake should really be more concerned about because _candles_) and the sounds of…was that Enya? Or that- who was that British chick Tori had talked about? Adele? Was his brother playing _sad_ _music_?

And where had he gotten the picture from?

As though reading his mind, Cyber Cam appeared beside him, shaking his head mournfully at Hunter's display.

"Dude threatened to break other appliances. Normally I wouldn't care but, man, some of those guys are my friends. We have history." He turned back to Blake, holographic eyes sad. "_History_ Blake, I couldn't just let him…"

"No, I get it," Blake replied, even though he didn't. His desire for robot/appliance history to _not_ be expanded on way overpowered his need to be correct. He did not…just no, he did _not _want to go into that.

"_Mr. McKibblesworth_," Hunter cried, sobs racking his body, just you know, to add to it all. Either he was _actually_ mourning the loss of his un-fabulously named toaster or, and this was much more likely, he had not taken kindly to their planned destruction of said toaster, and this was just his way at getting back at them.

Well that was just fine. Great even. He spent a week thinking about it, figured out and created a wonderfully charming image that would haunt Blake's dreams, and now all this nonsense could finally end because Hunter had gotten the last laugh.

Eventually he and Shane would have a fight about the appropriate way to approach a long-running prank, and the rest of the world could fall in line as it should be.

Blake left Hunter to his business, deciding he would bunk on Cam's floor or something for the next few days (sorry Dustin), refusing to give Hunter any satisfaction. It would also save his brother for having to put up the charade for longer than he needed to.

Blake wasn't sure if that made him the bigger man or not; he just knew he really, _really_ didn't want to listen to Hunter's music anymore.

Two minutes were enough for him thanks.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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-:-:-:-:-:-

When Dustin entered the kitchen his first, knee-jerk reaction had been to immediately leave it. Which, you know, was definitely a shame because Dustin liked the kitchen. The kitchen held the food and Dustin liked the food, celebrated the food, rejoiced, in the non-creepiest way possible, in the food. Dustin and food equaled good times just about always, including those times that involved Brussels spouts and sweet potatoes and baked ham because even the worst food still had some good qualities right? Like nutrition and color and filling that painful spot in your stomach.

Dustin liked food. Dustin liked _preparing_ food, especially for Cam, which was what had led him to the kitchen in the first place.

One look at Hunter, still decked out in his emo-goth-total-black-vampire garb staring at the new toaster oven with the most menacing look of pure hatred on his face really made Dustin want to convince Cam to eat out. They could do that. They both had money; he would cook another day.

As though sensing him (okay, not really, he probably just heard Dustin walk in because the mechanic hadn't been all that quiet about it) Hunter spoke to him, not bothering to turn away from the offending toaster oven.

(It had no name; Cam had forbidden it, but Dustin was okay with that because they managed to find a yellow one with green details. Even if it was expensive it was _best_)

"You _replaced_ Mr. McKibblesworth," Hunter growled, yes, totally, one hundred percent _growled_.

Dustin edged a little closer to the door.

"We needed a new toaster," he tried to reason because like, toast was tasty and they all ate it which Dustin had thought was the point of naming the old yellow toaster anyway.

Hunter didn't turn around, he didn't tense up but Dustin knew, like, in his soul that if Hunter could have turned around and strangled the yellow ranger to death with _his mind_ he would have because _that_ was how out-of-line his response had been.

Because like, maybe Mr. McKibblesworth had transcended just being a toaster to Hunter. Maybe he really _had_ become like a person, or a companion or whatever? What if Mr. McKibblesworth had really been Hunter's friend? Here they all were spitting on that, laughing at it.

"I'm sorry," Dustin said, because he didn't know what else to say and he really _was_ sorry Hunter felt so bad.

The blond teen just shrugged and said nothing, allowing Dustin to leave without further confrontations.

He should talk to Shane about this. No, maybe the entire team. The team should definitely talk about this.

Something didn't feel right.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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Cam didn't bother gracing the nuisance that was Hunter Bradley with any of his attention when the crimson ranger decided to intrude into his personal lab space. Cam had already banished him after the last incident of killing whatever joke he had been going for. The amusement, if there ever was any, had faded away long ago. Now all that was left was the undying commitment of an attention-starved brat and Cam would not feed into the blond's needs. If the crimson ranger wanted social interaction he would have to ask for it, not create elaborate schemes that _everyone else_ had already seen through.

Cam didn't bother turning around when Hunter entered his lab, which was probably what allowed Hunter the few seconds he needed to set Cam into a new and improved state of agitation.

The blond cleared his throat, perhaps a little tear-heavy but again, _Cam didn't care_.

…okay, there was always the natural call of his curiosity, begging to see how dedicated Hunter was to his little toaster charade, so Cam turned around to take in the sight of him.

He probably shouldn't have. Hunter had indeed been crying (which Cam would somehow catch flack for, even if the order to _not_ repair Mr. McKibblesworth had been unanimous) and was clutching a worn-out journal to his chest. A journal, by all appearances it would seem, he would be reading from.

Cam reached for the nearest non-lethal projectile. It was a book.

Hunter began, sniffing pitifully, "Ode to the crumbly bits at the toaster's bottom-"

The book hit its mark, right in the middle of the blond's face _(ten points)_ and the crimson ranger immediately cried out in pain, dropping his notebook. This, of course, evoked another cry from the blond teen as he quickly reached down and snapped the precious papers off the ground and retreated from the room, throwing an angry, if hurt look over his shoulder.

There was an enraged call from the hallway, loudly echoing, "You don't understand my feelings!", before Cam was once more allowed his solitude.

That was…interesting.

If Cam cared more (and he didn't, but if he _did_ it would be for the concern of the team, not Hunter himself) he would say that there was a slight probability of things not being _quite_ what they seemed. Perhaps this was more than just a joke executed tastelessly, perhaps Hunter was having some sort of crises and had used the toaster as a crutch, perhaps he was distracting himself from something, perhaps-

Perhaps Cam should bring this to Shane's attention. The red ranger cared a great deal more for Hunter than Cam did.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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-:-:-:-:-:-

Blake watched Shane glare at the back of Hunter's head, frustrated and upset and just the teensiest bit tired, but trying, nonetheless, to express his utter disdain for Hunter's behavior. His efforts were ultimately wasted though, as the blond was too focused on manically bashing the keys to his borrowed laptop to pay him any sort of attention. This had been going on for days.

"I want my boyfriend back," Shane complained, annoyance crumbling into sadness, probably because this crazy person was the one he happened to be dating.

Blake gave the red ranger a sympathetic look. He could sympathize with that.

The whole, important-person-being-psycho thing. To clarify. His girlfriend was perfectly sane and did _not_ make him want to injure people, thank you very much.

Hunter, surprisingly enough, turned his head away from the screen and gave Shane the most perfect look of abject despair. "And I just want my toaster back," he sobbed and turned back to his writing before either one of them could reply.

Cyber Cam had given them an update when this had first started and Blake had to give a shudder of terror. The world did not need any more (if it had ever needed it _at all_) angst-ridden poetry about toasters. The fact that Hunter had even established a _blog_ for the deceased Mr. McKibblesworth was disturbing enough, the fact that he was actually _using_ it…

Joke was over. If it was ever a joke.

There was something wrong.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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-:-:-:-:-:-

The team meeting started immediately and without any consideration in hiding it from Hunter. Tori thought it was like an attempt to show how bad things were, that Hunter was so lost in his little toaster-mourning world that he didn't even care what happened outside. He had stopped coming out of the McKibbles-shrine for the last two days, didn't even try to get food or sleep. He had, to all appearances, completely surrendered himself to depression. Feeling some kind of loss the rest of them couldn't even begin to understand.

Blake started first, probably because Shane was too busy trying to keep it together. "Something's wrong with Hunter."

Cam's immediate response of, "No shit," wasn't well received by anyone, but he _was_ entitled to at least a little respect, as he had sort of called something like this happening when this toaster business had started.

For the interest of keeping things moving and tempers in check, Tori stepped in, glossing over Cam. "What could have happened that would have caused this…" How was the best way to put it? "…_fixation_ of Hunter's?"

Blake shrugged, "Late-teen crisis?"

"Alien mind sickness," Dustin added, looking thoughtful.

"Love potion gone wrong," Cam declared, and just like that they knew, no further examination necessary, that Cam's proposition _had _to be true. Nothing else fit. Nothing else made sense.

"Dude," Dustin began, going after the one question that was begging to be answered. "Who would want to love-potion Hunter?"

He almost needn't have asked it because as soon as the words were out of his mouth Tori realized there could only be _one answer_.

And Cam knew that better than anybody.

The tech quirked an eyebrow. "Who else?"

-:-:-:-:-:-

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As it turned out, Dustin was the best at picking out bait for Marah and Kapri. Granted, the requirements for M/K bait were to find the most god-awful clothes in as many varying-shades-of-sparkle, add in some feathers, a dash of metallic paint and you're good to go. It helped if there was volume and maybe some added trinkets, which was why after a few hours of scrounging around the thrift shops the team was able to manifest the most hideous, eye-blinding, multi-colored and painfully clashing pile of clothes that ever had the misfortune to be gathered together. On top of this there were three sparkling tiaras, bounties that Dustin had been very insistent on; remnants from what Blake could only assume was the most fashion-challenged beauty pageant. They were so tall. And _so_ ugly. He could not describe how ugly they were.

And Dustin loved every single one of them.

If he and Cam ever got married, Blake knew Tori or Shane or _somebody_ was going to have to run interference on the "bride's" side of things. On second thought, Blake hoped the yellow ranger decked Tori out in the most awful bridesmaid dress he could find. The pictures would be _wonderful_.

As it also turned out, three tiaras and a heap-full of clothing was not enough to satisfy Marah and Kapri in order to get the love potion's antidote. They demanded Tori's fringe covered purse be added to their compensation.

The team got the antidote.

Tori was not a happy camper.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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Tori sulked all the way home after relinquishing her purse, driving a bit more offensively than she normally would have, forcing the rest of the team (or at least, Shane and Dustin who were _not_ clouded by love or intellect) to test their wills not to shout at every near miss.

"Seriously," Shane griped after a short stint of _driving down the wrong side of the road_. "It was just a purse. You can get another one."

"Oh, I'm getting another one. Hunter's buying it for me. And you know what," she began in that way that Shane knew would never end well for him. "I think you're buying me one too."

"What? Come on, you're driving terribly."

"That purse was a gift."

"It was a _purse_."

"Dude," Dustin whispered. "Do not make Hulk angry."

Shane leaned in close to the yellow ranger, attempting to make his whisper like, a whisper. "I'm _trying_ to talk reason into her."

Dustin shrugged. "Think of it this way, you get to experience all the drawbacks of having a girlfriend without any of the actual benefits."

The mechanic informed him of this in that helpfully-pleased manner that meant that he was completely oblivious to the negative connotations of his statement. In his book this was one hundred percent beneficial stuff.

"Dude," Shane murmured back in the quietest tones he could manage. "I don't _want_ to experience any of Tori's benefits."

It was at this moment their driver chose to speak. "I can hear you, you know."

"_Agh_," Shane groaned. "I don't want to have to buy _two_ purses."

"Hey," Dustin replied, brightening up, "maybe you could get her a pair of dangly earrings. Those things are so cool."

"Dude, Dustin," Shane moaned. "Please stop feeding into stereotypes."

Dustin tilted his head, confused, and looked towards his boyfriend. "What's wrong with dangly things?"

"For you guys," Blake perked up smugly from his spot in the passenger seat. "I thought dangly bits were the whole point."

There _might_ have been a brief second where they almost had a head-on collision with a pickup truck, but at the end of _that_ brief heart attack Shane cold take comfort in the fact he would only have to buy the one purse. Blake got shafted with the earrings, but Dustin happily volunteered to help pick them out.

Once more Cam proved himself to be the smartest person on the team by _keeping his mouth shut_.

Shane really thought they would learn one day.

Just…_well_.

Just not today.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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-:-:-:-:-:-

"So what you're saying," Hunter began in a way that suggested they were all stupid and he felt stupid just for having to explain these things. "Was that you didn't notice anything was wrong until_ after_ I started crying over the toaster, and even _then_ it was still _questionable_?"

He looked around as if he dared any of them to dispute his summation of all toaster-related events and none of them did because, well, it _was_ pretty accurate. Blake didn't want to point out the fact that Hunter had a way of acting, like, ridiculous when it came to pissing off Cam.

Which was why it came from Dustin instead.

"Dude," the yellow ranger began, "you're always like this when you want to make Cam mad."

"I was _carrying_ a toaster around," Hunter countered, hands on hips in a way that would totally be denied at a later date despite any photo evidence because Hunter Bradley did _not_ put his hands on his hips.

"I didn't care," Cam droned in a deadpan voice which, yeah, they all knew, and Hunter ignored him and Cam ignored his ignoring and they continued to prove how their utter stupidness had led to this entire catastrophe.

But that was totally not the point.

"I thought it was cute," Tori ventured, smiling despite the look of absolute _evil_ Hunter threw her way, and then her smile widened as she reminisced over the name. "I liked Mr. McKibblesworth."

To spare Hunter from doing it, Shane made the declaration. "We are _not_ mentioning that name again."

Dustin was the only one who looked mildly upset by this. "But Mr. McKibblesworth-"

Shane actually gave him the mock-stink eye. "Never. Again."

And that marked the beginning of them trying to forget the past couple of weeks. No one told Hunter though; he would continue to throw meaningful glares their way for the next two days until Tori baked him cookies, and then Dustin baked better cookies, and then there was a slight war over that instead and the adventures of Mr. McKibblesworth became just be a funny, if seldom brought up, memory.

-:-:-:-:-:-

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-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days after the conclusion of the _toaster-that-must-not-be-named_'s escapades Shane leaned against the counter of the Ninja Ops kitchen island, staring at the new-toaster-oven as it did its business. A bedraggled Hunter zombie-walked his way into the kitchen and made a bee-line for the coffee pot, paying his boyfriend no attention until he had downed at least half his first mug. Shane smiled at his antics, happy that balance had at last been restored.

"Toast?" he offered once Hunter turned around.

He had to. It was too tempting.

The blond glared at him and shook his head in vehement 'no' fashion.

"Not funny," he grumbled, then closed the distance between them and leaned against Shane's side, snuggling his head against the darker teen's shoulder. "You know you're my favorite right?" he asked, and Shane smiled because yeah, he knew.

"I mean," Hunter continued. "After Dustin."

He ducked when Shane went to flick the side of his head, and before they could get any further the toaster finished its appointed task and popped out Shane's toast, letting out a small _'ding'_ to signify the end of its process. Or at least, it would have, if someone hadn't changed the _'ding'_ to a holographic video of Hunter hugging a notebook to his chest, pitifully wailing, _"You don't understand my feelings!"_

Shane snorted, and the distinctive giggles of Tori and what had to be Cyber Cam echoed from around the corner.

Hunter was out of the kitchen in an instant, chasing the giggles down the hall.

Shane stared at the toast for a few seconds and then shrugged, pulling the bread out and flicking it into the trash before putting in some Poptarts. He was sort of done with toast now. It was high time to move on.

Dustin nicked one of his Poptarts just as Hunter finished his second declaration of misunderstood feelings and smiled as he took a seat across from Shane at the island counter.

"Thanks dude," he said, munching on the yellow-iced breakfast treat. "I love Poptarts."

They froze at the same time, a small feeling of terror building up in Shane's chest, and Dustin hurriedly continued, sensing the dread.

"I mean," he explained, waving his hand enthusiastically to demonstrate all was well. "Just like a friend though."

It should be more surreal, with _this_ being the kind of stuff they had to worry about now.

It wasn't; it just should be.

"Glad I have nothing to worry about," Cam murmured as he made his entrance, stopping to accept Dustin's small offering of Poptart before pouring himself a glass of coffee.

"Dude," Dustin said, nestling into Cam's side once he settled down next to him. "You're new toaster timer totally works."

"Awesome," Cam replied, not even bothering to look up from the tablet he had brought with him to see the disbelieving look on Shane's face.

And it was a really good one.

"I think it could use more volume though," Dustin continued while staring off into the distance, his own idea machine starting up. "Make it really pop."

There was probably a little bit of pride in the way Cam held Dustin closer, squeezing the mechanic's waist as his fingers flicked across the tablet's screen. "Your suggestions are noted."

And Shane felt like he should really take note of this; that if Cam and Dustin ever went bad and decided to take over the world _this_ was the day he should remember as "_and-that-was-when-they-became-unstoppable"_, but it was early in the morning and Shane had a boyfriend chasing around some not-so-innocent-bystanders, so he just shrugged it off and threw this incident into his _life-as-a-power-ranger_ pile. It seemed like a lot of things were getting thrown in there, nowadays.

Not that he really had a problem with that.

Not at all.

* * *

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* * *

Endnotes:

This all turned out to be a lot more complicated than I thought it would. Honestly, it evolved at a rather frightening pace.

So my good pal vamps said something along the lines of "I will read any pairing you do with Hunter" and that was all I really needed for the gears to start turning.

I introduce to you the Hunter/toaster pairing. Dare you to follow in my footsteps ; )

There's an epilogue of you would like, but it has nothing to do with the Ninja Storm characters (but felt _absolutely necessary_ as the bunnies often tell me, so…)

There's a laugh, if you would like it. If not, hope you enjoyed the ride.

Until next time.


	2. Epilogue

Epilogue

* * *

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* * *

"_Ode to the crumbly bits at the Toaster's bottom,_

_You are loved far more than the crumbly bits in my tummy, as you have been sacrificed to the most blessed of places,_

_Being enlightened and set ablaze in ways I shall never attain._

_Would that I could, I would stab each of you in the crumbly-face area_

_For being such lucky, ungrateful bastards"_

"I think it's a metaphor," Jimmy said, staring thoughtfully at his computer.

"No," Steve replied, because Steve was always one to be contrary. It was part of the reason they kept him around. "It's just garbage."

"No wait," Jimmy insisted. Usually Jimmy had a shot of persuading Steve to join his side if he presented his argument in a thoughtful manner, regardless of whether it was actually thoughtful or not. "It's a representation of our lives don't you think? Spiritual nourishment vs what we surrender to the advancements in technology?"

When he received nothing but blank stares Jimmy elaborated.

"He values what is put in the toaster more than what he puts in himself. It has more merit, more substance."

Now _that _was something they could work with.

"You mean like how the internet has distanced us from other people, worn away our empathy because we don't have to be held accountable for ourselves? We _lose_ that empathy to the toaster."

This came from Courtney, who was they only girl of the group. The boys often prided the fact they had managed to get a girl to interact with them. Courtney herself prided the fact she ran with a pack of males, though this was mostly because few other girls played video games or collected comic books or played D&D, but nonetheless she was pleased with the company she kept. She was also pleased that her gender sometimes allowed her an elevated status when it came to settling disputes. Something about differing genitals throwing off the opposition just enough to give her a competitive edge.

It also came in handy when calling for shotgun.

"Exactly," Jimmy said, thoroughly pleased with the stimulating conversation that had followed his inadvertent discovery. "It's about how man has sacrificed part of himself with the coming of technology-"

"Yeah," Steve began, again playing the devil's advocate. "Because _before_ technology and science the world was just peachy. It was also flat, and gravity didn't exist."

"What I'm _saying_," Jimmy continued, throwing Steve a patient but fond look, because Steve just _might_ be his favorite. "Is that before technology people relied on religion to provide all the answers. It was a comfort thing; they were reasoning the incomprehensible at the time. But now the world has evolved and we _know_ the reasons behind all those old mysterious things." Jimmy began waving his arms, gesturing broadly as he got to the peak of his argument. "So now atheism is all on the rise, which, you know, understandable because we know things and now it's not just a matter of faith right? But now we're losing the good parts too; there's a lapse in morals, we are sacrificing-"

"Our dignity to the beast of technological advancement," Steve finished, mildly impressed but refusing to show it.

Jimmy, who may or may not have been friends with Steve for the past eight years (even if Steve insisted it was only 5; Jimmy counted the ones where he stared pitifully at him from a distance; _not_-stalker like, thanks), saw through this ploy and celebrated, on the inside, because he didn't want to hurt Steve's feelings.

Steve was the best.

"But wait," Courtney said, because she needed attention sometimes too and didn't want to get drowned out in the epic wave of bromance. "Doesn't he sound like, envious of the crumbly-bits?"

"Sarcasm," Jimmy explained, fog of bromance mildly shattered by the prospect of ladies. "He's being ironic."

"Maybe he just doesn't like toast."

It was the first time Marvin had said anything since the entire toast-debate had begun, not that it was surprising. Marvin was not one for many words. He kept mostly to himself, which made the few times he actually decided to say anything all the more meaningful. Were anyone to actually ask Marvin how he felt about that he would be the first to admit that what he said had very _little_ value, so he had to make it count, somehow. It had worked, so far, so he wasn't complaining.

The other three teens pondered this, eventually leading to Courtney's thoughtful head tilt as she turned back to the screen.

"But who doesn't like toast?"

The three swiveled back to Marvin, awaiting the new gift of wisdom, and the quiet teen fought off the urge to shrug helplessly, instead saying, "Exactly."

And just like that, their minds were blown.

It was all very magical.

* * *

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* * *

THE END

Until next time : )


End file.
